


The Dangerousness of Hobbits

by The_Mouse



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Hobbit Myths, I don't know what I'm doing, Mentions Cannibalism, Other, Timeline What Timeline, lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-08 23:28:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/767338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Mouse/pseuds/The_Mouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo gets tired of rude, messy dwarrows invading his home. Dwarrows who make fun of him and clean out his larder without even a 'please' or a 'thank you'. When he hears the youngest of the group whispering amongst themselves about Old Hobbit Tales, he plots a little revenge for all the trouble they've put him through. Gandalf... Gandalf just thinks it's funny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

 

* * *

In Bree -- Three Nights Before the Company meets Bilbo

* * *

++In The Prancing Pony++

Spread out across the tavern, the group of dwarrows were biding their time. It was nightfall, so they couldn't really go any farther, but it wasn't yet time to sleep, either.

The youngest of the group, Ori, was sitting beside his brother Nori. Nori was gambling with a bunch of Rangers, while Ori listened to the tales that were being told.

Tales of Hobbits.

They were going to meet a hobbit in the Shire, to ask him to be their Burgler, so Ori listened with all his might.

One Ranger smiled. "Hobbits don't have problems with bandits, much. We do what we can to keep the bandits away, though sometimes one or two will get by us."

Ori nodded, he knew that it was impossible to keep watch _all_  the time. "What happens when a bandit gets to the Shire?"

Another Ranger piped up. "They don't come back."

Ori looked at the second Ranger, then back to the first. "What does he mean?"

"They disappear, never to be seen again." The first Ranger replies.

Ori looks between the Rangers, a bit mystified.

The second Ranger leaned closer and gave out an evil-looking smile. "Hobbits love fresh meat."

Nori swatted the table lightly, getting the attention of the Rangers and Ori. Nori was scowling lightly, making him look like a scolding parent. "Enough. Don't give him nightmares over Old Hobbit Tales."

Ori gulped a little as Nori and the Rangers went back to gambling.

All Tales started from a grain of truth, after all.

* * *

 After Nori wandered off to gamble with another group, Ori was joined by Fíli and Kíli. The three listened well into the night about Old Hobbit Tales. Hearing stories about hobbits and what 'a friend of a friend' saw...

Each tale of the hobbits of the Shire was more gruesome than the last. Tales of people going missing, blood trails, dismembered body parts, screams in the night, and Fresh Meat.

* * *

The next morning, the group set out after provisioning themselves. It would be three days until they got to the Shire proper to meet with Gandalf and the hobbit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Prompt from The Hobbit Kink Meme:
> 
> You know in the troll sequence, where Bilbo has to stall quickly and the first thing he thinks of, for perfectly understandable reasons, is to debate the proper way to cook a dwarf? And you know how hobbits are small little things, and they don't much like Big Folk, and they often try to trick or talk their way out of trouble? And you know how they love food and are often thinking about it at most moments?
> 
> What if the whole 'pretending to know how to cook and eat larger beings' thing is actually standard hobbit practice for getting out of tough spots? Hobbits have been using that old gaff for centuries. "Oh, we haven't had a spot of dwarf for fifty years!" Or "What happened to the last bandit, Ma? Oh, that's right, them bastard Tooks got 'im. Full meal for three hobbits on that, and wasted on a bunch of Tooks." Or "Oh, you don't want to be going into the Shire. Not the deep Shire, anyway. We're all right enough out here, but in there ... Well. They follow the old ways, if you follow me. And they'll have finished off the last group by now. Down to marrowbone soup and the odd bit of blood pudding, I expect."
> 
> A few centuries on, and the hobbits have garnered a reputation for being ... not cannibals, since they're all different species, but you get the drift. It's that, as much as resting between elves and men, that keeps the Shire safe and free and separate. You don't want to go in there, because the little hairy-footed bastards look friendly now, but wait until dark falls, my lad, and see if you don't end up in the Gaffer's soup pot.
> 
> Just ... Imagine walking through the friendly, idyllic Shire. The rolling hills, the neat little gardens, the round, cheerful front doors, the round, cheerful little creatures sitting in front of them, squinting suspiciously at you but giving you a wave and a good morning regardless.
> 
> Now imagine your daddy told they were cannibals. And twilight's coming. And the Shire's just that bit too big to cross in one day. And there's smoke coming from the chimneys under the turf. And suddenly the memory of that cheerful, rotund innkeeper and his recommendations of 'the best meat pie west of the Homely House' seem that little more sinister.
> 
> And now imagine that Gandalf the bloody Grey has just told you that the key to regaining your homeland lies somewhere in the center of that. It's all lies, he tells you. Codswallop, told to keep the mean and the weak-minded away. You just head in there, lads, and I'll leave a sign on the door, and there'll be nothing to worry about.
> 
> And there isn't ... until one of you doesn't arrive on time. But it's fine. Absolutely fine. Thorin just got lost, that's all. Terrible sense of direction, that dwarf. He just got a little lost.
> 
> ... Didn't he?
> 
> Bonus points for Bilbo not having a bloody clue what's up with all these dwarves for ages (because hobbits stopped having to tell those stories themselves years ago, aside from the odd joke, and honestly can't believe anyone still listens to them) until someone (Ori? Bofur?) stutters out all the old stories, and Bilbo realises he has a little room for revenge regarding the whole 'crack the plates' fiasco.
> 
> Double bonus points for Gandalf being a total troll about the whole thing.
> 
> TL;DR - Hobbits and the Shire have gotten a reputation for being cannibals from centuries of lying through their teeth to scare Big Folk away. The dwarves have heard all the old stories and obviously don't believe them, of course not. It's just that night's falling, and Thorin hasn't shown up yet, and these hobbits really do like their food ...


	2. Believe It... Or Not...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something that is underlined is in a different language. Please use common sense, it's not like Bifur can speak Quenya...
> 
> Also, I changed the name from "Beware of The Shire" to "The Dangerousness of Hobbits" because I realized that I had just read something in The Hobbit fanfic that was titled the same.... oops, my bad.

* * *

Between Bree And Hobbiton

* * *

 

Ori had spent that day's journey thinking over the stories the Rangers had told them. He wasn't sure if he should believe them or not. They had talked about how nice hobbits were, how polite and courteous, how helpful. Then, they had told him stories about hobbits retaliating against those who would hurt them or were mean to them.

That night, Fíli retold the stories to the other dwarrows. "The Ranger said that the bandits become fresh meat that the hobbits cure for jerky, their innards become playthings or bags for baking other foods in. Blood Pudding is apparently a delicacy when made with _Elf_ blood."

"Ach, laddie! Those stories aren't real. It's just fantasy to get younglings to mind their manners." Balin scoffed.

Kíli barged in, "It is too! Ask Ori! We were all listening when the Rangers were telling us of Dwarf Bonemarrow Soup!"

"Enough." The word was quiet, but it _was_ from Thorin. "We will not put stock in rumors, unless we have first-hand experience in the truth."

Fíli and Kíli started whispering with Ori, adamant that there had to be some truth... or else the Rangers wouldn't have said anything.

* * *

"I'm telling you, Ori, we don't know what will have 'parts' in it... The meat could be Man, the jams could be Man... if it doesn't look right, or smell right, don't touch it." Kíli whispered.

Ori nodded urgently as Fíli went on. "If we get caught out after dark, the Rangers said that we just have to let the hobbits know that we were invited to someone's home. They said that the hobbits would point us on our way, and leave us be."

Ori spoke up, "So we're safe?"

Fíli nodded but then shook his head. "Yes and no. We're only safe as long as we aren't rude."

Ori nodded, "Right, the Rangers said that hobbits hate rudeness."

"Exactly!" Fíli and Kíli said at the same time.

* * *

 The next morning, before they set out again, Ori spoke up. "What about the bread? Will it be safe?"

Fíli and Kíli traded looks and grimaced. Fíli spoke up, "I hope so, I don't want to be stuck eating just vegetables."

Ori shuddered.

As they set out, the boys decided that they were going to hash out the stories, so they could decide what would be safe to set aside as just fanciful nonsense.

The entire company listened as they spoke of the stories, each one having some detail that overlapped with another story.

The dwarrows started to worry. 

Bofur spoke up. "We could always send someone in, then send in another to see if the first one is safe. Then, we could up the ante and bring in more to out-number the hobbit we're meeting with... Just in case..."

"Aye, that's true." Balin stated.

Bifur spoke in Khuzdul. "We will need the most skilled to go first. Brute force might be needed."

Everyone turned and looked at Dwalin.


	3. Rude Dwarrows Invade Bilbo's Smíal

* * *

  
Bilbo's Smíal

* * *

Dwalin's palms started to sweat a little as he stood at the door of 'Bag End'. He had dreamed about those blasted stories the night before. In the dream, he'd been put in a cooking pot while Ori had been shoved into a stove. He'd watched the faceless hobbit use Bofur on a cheese grater, to season Ori and then himself.

When he'd woken up, he'd taken one look at the breakfast pot and decided that he would eat cram instead.

He felt a little cowardly, to be honest. So, he wiped his palms, touched each of his weapons, then knocked on the door.

* * *

Balin took a deep breath. It was time. Dwalin hadn't given the signal, but hopefully the hobbit hadn't ambushed him as soon as the door had closed.

He knocked on the door, then plastered on his most charming smile as the door opened.

* * *

Fíli and Kíli hadn't been paying attention to the Hobbit's door when Balin went in. They had decided to look around a little, but not too far... they didn't want to be snatched up.

So when they got back into position and found Balin gone, they ran up to the door and knocked quickly.

Then they almost panicked when 'Bilbo Baggins, at your service.' almost closed the door on them.

* * *

Gandalf had startled the rest of the dwarrows when he popped up out of nowhere. "What are you hiding from...?"

Fíli and Kíli had just went inside, and it wasn't time for the rest of them to show up... but Gandalf didn't know that.

He rounded up the dwarrows (like a shepherd gathering sheep) and pushed them to the door and proceeded to knock. The dwarrows quickly tried to get away from the door, but Bombur was in the way. Gandalf pushed on Bombur and he stumbled into the rest to the dwarrows right as the door opened. They fell into the hobbit's home all at once.

An irritated voice huffed, "Gandalf."

* * *

Thorin saw Gandalf arrive and knew that he wouldn't let anything happen to his company, so Thorin decided to scout around the Hobbit's home. He walked up the outside stairs to the hanging laundry, then pushed past it to look over Hobbiton. He turned in all directions, to get a good look, then walked down the stairs in front of him. He walked around the hill to get to the hobbit's door... and realized that it wasn't the same door.

It was the same size, same color, it even had a bench and a fence in the front yard. The only thing missing was Gandalf's mark.

"What...?"

* * *

Bilbo stared at his seemingly empty pantry, looked back to the dwarrows in his dining room, then went into the pantry to search for some more food. He was really hungry, now. His supper had been interupted an hour ago--and eaten by the brutish looking dwarf--and he hadn't had a moment to sit and eat.

The youngest of the dwarrows, a small(ish) ginger-haired dwarf, was in the pantry. Bilbo cleared his throat gently. The poor thing looked at him and squeaked. "Sorry, Mister Baggins, I was trying to find some more cheese." The dwarf (Bilbo thinks his name might be Ori...) gave a shaky smile and edged out of the pantry.

Bilbo stood there for a moment, a bit confused. He'd never had someone react like that to him, before.

He shook his head and cleaned up the pantry, managing to find his stew basket. It was untouched. It had carrots, potatoes, onions, some garlic, and several other vegetables inside.

Bilbo decided to hide it.


	4. The Beginning of The End

* * *

Bilbo's Smíal

* * *

 

After a time, Bilbo looked around at the rowdy dwarrows... and gave up. He was starving, they'd eaten most of everything, and there were only scraps of his favorite foods left. Bilbo saw his chance, since the dwarrows were slowing in their eating, and scooped up the last scraps of venison from the table.

He was going for his soup pot when he noticed Kíli looking out of the window.

When he went into the pantry for his vegetable basket, he overheard Fíli telling someone that 'Thorin's taking too long, it's truly dark now.'

As he chopped the veggies for his stew, he eavesdropped on Ori whimpering to Fíli and Kíli about Dwarf Bonemarrow Soup.

He stopped and almost gasped aloud.

Everything was starting to make sense...

Dwalin had puffed up every time Bilbo had walked by.

Balin had smiled that charming smile and greeted him politely.

Bofur had good-naturedly teased Bilbo about all the food laid out.

Bifur had given him suspicious looks.

Bombur had hesitated whenever he'd went to pick certain foods up, as if deciding if he really wanted to try it or not.

Glóin had poked at the meats on the table, even so far as to cut a small piece off of something to smell it.

Óin had only taken food off of a plate once he'd seen someone else eating it.

Dori had only eaten foods that were obviously familiar to him.

Nori had followed everyone else's eating habits, which enabled him to eat a wide variety of foods... but not everything.

Then, Fíli and Kíli and Ori's behaviors....

They had been told Old Hobbit Tales.

* * *

Now, Bilbo knew that hobbit's had stopped telling those tales after contracting the Rangers to protect the Shire in exchange for food.

After all, Hobbit's are always growing something edible all _year._

It wouldn't be good to have a repeat of the Fell Winter.

Recipes got passed back and forth, all the time, because of Adventures.

The Adventures of his mother were legendary, she'd gotten recipes from Elves, Men, and Dwarrows alike.

Bilbo had always been a willing student when it came to cooking with his mother.

* * *

By the time the dwarrows started singing about his plates, Bilbo had more than 'just-about-enough' of their shenanigans.

He had started to carry a thick mug of soothing, hot tea with him, while waiting on his stew to finish simmering, and when the dwarrows finished throwing his dinnerware... He let them have it. He didn't want them to drop anything because of his yelling, after all.

Bilbo, angry enough to compare them to being _worse_ than Lobelia, slammed the thick mug down onto the table. "Enough!"

The dwarrows froze.

"You do not throw the dinnerware! You do not joke at your host's expense! I have put up with rude dwarrows for two and a half hours now! I'll not have it, not anymore!" Bilbo's face was flushed with temper, his Tookish Temper getting the best of him. "I'm of a mind to toss you all out! To let you fend for yourselves for the rest of the night! Not even the inn would take you now!"

Ori whimpered softly, and Bilbo lessened his glare when he looked at the lad. He quickly turned back to the older dwarrows, "And to think, you've brought a tween on your journey. You should be ashamed! Not just one even, but  _three_. I ought to yank your beards off!"

The dwarrows grabbed at their chins and beards, as if trying to make sure it was still there and to hide them behind their hands.

"Mr. Boggins-" Kíli started.

"It's BAGGINS!" Bilbo thundered. "My name is BAGGINS. You've eaten all of my delicacies, from Man to Elf to Dwarf, and you still refuse to use my name correctly?!"

Fíli paled. Delicacies of Dwarf.... He thought back to everything he'd eaten, but he couldn't remember something that hadn't tasted like beef, chicken, pork, or fish. Oh, dear... which one had been Dwarf....??

Dwalin looked to Gandalf, but he wasn't any help. He just sat there and puffed at his pipe with a small smile on his face. Easy for him to do, considering he was an Istari and not a Man--though how they weren't considered 'Man', he didn't know. They all looked like Men.

Bilbo had deflated though, he'd instantly felt bad for yelling at the lad. It smacked too hard of something Lobelia would do, and made his stomach churn.

The three youngest burst into tears and threw themselves at Bilbo's feet, making him stumble backwards in shock.

They looked up at him, puppy-dog eyes full of tears and said, "Please don't eat us!!"

Bilbo's stomach dropped to his feet.


	5. Final Destination

* * *

Bilbo's Smíal

* * *

When the three boys threw themselves to Bilbo's feet, he felt a little guilty. He also felt justified, because Fíli and Kíli had been a little rude from the beginning; and except for belching at the table and throwing food, Ori had been perfectly pleasant.

"Oh, get up boys... I'm not going to eat you." Bilbo sighingly said, then added. "You're too young to taste good anyways."

Gandalf chuckled. "Bilbo..."

Bilbo looked to Gandalf, who raised his brows. Bilbo groaned and made a face. "Fine..."

Then came a knock at the door.

* * *

 

Thorin was tired.

Tired of green hills, hanging laundry, front gardens, benches and fences... he was tired of The Shire.

He'd only meant to look around.

Instead, he'd gotten himself turned about. Lost.

Not that he would admit that.

He knocked on a round door and waited for the people inside to answer.

A lady with bright red hair answered the door, with a smile even, and Thorin cleared his throat. "Thorin Oakenshield, at your service."

The lady smiled a bit and nodded, "Belle Gamgee, at your service."

"I'm sorry for disturbing you this late, Madam Gamgee, but I was told that Bilbo Baggins lives near here. If you would, could you point me in the right way? He's expecting me."

Belle's smile grew and she stepped out of the doorway. "The road curls to the left and to the right, just around the corner." She motioned then pointed. "If you follow the curve to the left, his door is the next one you'll come to."

Thorin sighed in relief. He wasn't that far away. "Thank you, Madam Gamgee. Have a wonderful evening." He nodded to her and left her there.

He walked around the side of the hill... only to see the one road split into three.

' _Oh, no_...' Which one did she consider the left road?

* * *

At the door of Bilbo's Smíal, was a really small hobbit. Though the child was small, he was the oldest of all the Gamgee children.

Before Bilbo could even greet the child, he spoke up. "Mama says a strange dwarf came to the door looking for you Mister Bilbo, Sir. She said that he's a little taller than her with dark hair and blue eyes, and he's carrying an _axe!_  She wasn't sure if he was telling the truth about being expected though, so she told me to come warn you. Are you expecting a dwarf, Mister Bilbo, Sir?" As was the wont of little children, it was all spewed out in one breath.

Bilbo blinked, then looked to Gandalf, who nodded while chuckling heartily. "Yes --"

"Oh, good. 'Cause Mama told me to fetch the Sheriff, if you said no, and to make sure that he didn't go alone. All because he's carrying an  _axe,_ Mama says that he'll know how to use it." The child nodded fervently to himself and to Bilbo, waved goodbye, and disappeared.

The dwarrows that could see the door from their seats blinked in shock. The child was there, then he wasn't. They'd never seen someone move like that, let alone a child. Even Glóin had never seen a child move that quietly, but that could've been because his child had never moved that softly if he didn't have to.

* * *

Bilbo had shut the door and walked only a couple of steps away, when there was another knock on the door.

When the door was opened this time, it was to a surly-looking dwarf with dark hair and blue eyes... and he was carrying an axe.


	6. Meeting In The Middle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, my muse took off... Then came back and gave me a chapter... I wasn't happy with it, so half of it got deleted and re-ground out. I hope this doesn't happen again, I don't like not updating in so long...

 

* * *

Bilbo's Smíal

* * *

Thorin chose the road to the farthest left, hoping that he wasn't going to get turned around again.

Luckily, the next door he came to had Gandalf's mark on it. He knocked and was surprised at how fast the door was opened.

It was a hobbit that answered the door.

He came up to Thorin's chin and when Thorin met eyes with the hobbit, Thorin felt his heart start to race.

His head cleared, as if he'd just come up from underwater.

His body tensed and relaxed, like someone had soothed a hurt he hadn't even realized was there.

It all happened in one single moment, and Thorin thought, 'Why does it have to be _now_ , that I find my One?'

* * *

Gandalf came forward to clasp Thorin's arm in greeting, "Thorin Oakenshield! Finally made it, I see..."

Thorin snorted lightly, "If it hadn't been for the mark on the door, I fear I would have walked right by the place."

"Mark? What mark?" Bilbo frowned. "There's not a single mark on that door, it was painted just last week."

Thorin looked at Bilbo. "Gandalf's --"

Gandalf cleared his throat loudly, interupting Thorin. "It's been a while since supper, but I'm sure Bilbo has something still."

Bilbo jerked slightly. "Oh, yes. I've a nice Ranger Recipe that I was able to make. It should be almost done."

Thorin smiled lightly, happy that his One was willing to make a meal for him. He ignored the thought that Bilbo hadn't known he was going to be there.

The dwarrows that had been close by, and therefore able to hear, flinched back. There was Ranger flesh in the house? They'd cleaned out the pantry and the larder, both. What had been Ranger meat?

* * *

Bilbo made two bowls, then sat one down in front of Thorin. He put his bowl down and pulled up a chair. He set it beside Thorin, who had just taken his first bite of stew, when he felt like he'd been electrocuted.

Bilbo jerked forward a step, then swayed, and had to grasp at the back of the chair to stay standing.

There are reasons that Hobbits put so much emphasis on food and sharing meals.

Sharing meals with your guests is a big tradition, whether it's a small snack or an actual meal, because it's through the shared meal that they find their Only.

Had Bilbo had the chance to eat earlier, he wouldn't have known that his Only was sharing a meal with him. Dwalin had eaten his meal and nothing had happened. He had prepared his supper of fish, enough for only one Hobbit, and had it eaten by a guest. Bilbo had been slightly disappointed that he hadn't felt anything but indignation that his meal had been taken from him.

It was because he was sharing _his_ meal with Thorin, that he realized that Thorin was his Only.

Bilbo slightly staggered as he went to sit down and he ended up falling into the seat of the chair.

One thought stood out amidst the rest of his jumbled thoughts. 'This is going to get complicated.'

* * *

Thorin was indecisive, he really wanted his One to go on the Quest, but then again... No. It would be a good chance to show his prowess in battle, a good chance to get to know who Bilbo Baggins really was, but it was going to be a dangerous Quest. He already had his nephews on the Quest, but that was because they had snuck away from home and trailed after them until it was too late to turn back.

It really was Bilbo's choice, but still...

Thorin looked around, to find his Company staring at him in shock.

Thorin cleared his throat and gave a small smile to Bilbo, trying to win a bit of favor. "This is really good, Bilbo. The meat is really tender..."

Bilbo grinned a little, ridiculously happy that Thorin was commenting on his cooking skills. "It takes a little to get venison so tender, but if you treat it just right..."

"Venison? I thought you said it was Ranger...?" Ori squeaked out.

Bilbo blinked. "What?"

"You said it was a Ranger Recipe." Kíli piped in.

Bilbo's head hit the table with a quiet thunk.

Thorin looked at his Company and then to Bilbo. Bilbo's head was down on the table, his shoulders were shaking, and he was making choking noises.

"Bilbo?" Thorin queried quietly.

Bilbo raised up from the table, laughing so hard that tears streamed out of his eyes.

The Company looked taken aback, so Bilbo quickly got himself under control.

Wiping his eyes and chuckling, he said, "Ranger Recipe means how it's cooked and seasoned, and who I got it from."

He could see the Company relax as one, and realised that everyone had taken him seriously... not just the youngest members.

Bilbo got up and disappeared, reappearing quickly with a thick book. "Recipes. I gather them from travelers -- be they Elf, Dwarrow, Hobbit or Man. I label them in alphabetical  order and write down who gave them to me. I got the stew recipe from a Ranger, apparently it's a favorite meal."

Fíli nodded in understanding, but Ori shook his head and said, "But the Ranger at the Prancing Pony said that Hobbits are cannibalistic. Why?"

Bilbo nodded. "It's a tactic against the Big Folk that the Rangers use to help keep us protected. Hobbits haven't had to use those Old Hobbit Tales in... I'd say about three hundred years... The Rangers have protected us for at least that long. In return, we set aside part of the Harvest for them, so it's easier for them to feed themselves."

Kíli looked confused, "What do you mean?"

"They're nomadic, in part, so we enable them to have food to take back to their families when they trade Watch. They do odd jobs around, as well, so they have a bit of money for their weapons supplies... but Hobbits mainly work with the land and we sell all of the extra food to be able to produce more." Bilbo explained.

Ori didn't seem like he was paying attention anymore, since he was writing in his book again, so Bilbo shrugged and finished his (now barely warm) stew.


End file.
